Ravage

by Tillie Cole

  I heard Zoya crying out as I dropped to the ground, my body writhing wildly from the electrical current coursing through it. Fighting to stand, I saw a Wraith take hold of Zoya and easily wrap his arms around her slight waist.

  Her fearful face was looking down at me. “Valentin,” she cried, only for Mistress to turn in Zoya’s direction. Mistress lifted her hand and sliced it across Zoya’s cheek. Pride filled my chest as Zoya didn’t cry out; instead she stared Mistress straight in the eyes.

  Mistress closed in, and gripping Zoya’s face in her gloved hands she hissed, “His name is 194.” Mistress’s head tipped to the side as she studied Zoya’s face.

  “So, the Kostava mystery princess has landed in my Ubiytsa’s chamber?” Mistress smiled and, dropping Zoya’s face, said, “My dead lover would be thrilled if he had seen you for himself. He spent years searching for where your father’s men had hidden you.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, I pushed off the cold ground and staggered to my feet. Mistress turned just as I was about to strike. She held the Taser next to Zoya’s throat and said, “You move and I’ll hurt your little kotyonok.”

  Blood drained from my face.

  “What?” Mistress said, and shook her head. “You think I don’t have a live feed on you at all times? You don’t think I can hear everything you say to your hits in the chambers? I watch you, 194. I watch you closely.”

  “You fucking bitch!” I snarled. Mistress never even flinched. Turning to the Wraiths, she withdrew the Taser from Zoya’s neck and ordered, “Take her to the van!” Mistress glanced back to me. “If this one attacks me, shoot his Kostava whore in the head.”

  Everything inside of me fought to snap Mistress’s neck, but when my eyes tracked the Wraiths carrying a struggling Zoya away, I brushed past the Mistress and followed. Her hand landed on my arm, stopping me dead. She looked at Zoya and at the Wraith carrying her away, then said, “This scene seems familiar, doesn’t it, 194? Another female you love being carried away by my men, and you, being forced to watch and let it happen?”

  Turning my head to face her haggard face, I bit, “One day, I’ll kill you, and stare into your fucking dead eyes as your rancid face welcomes death.”

  The Mistress swallowed hard. My body warmed when I realized that I’d scared the bitch. Snapping herself round, she stepped closer and said, “Follow your little Georgian, 194. Follow her before the Wraiths hurt her pretty Kostava face.”

  Rushing forward, I ran up the stairs that led to the van that stood in the middle of a fallow field. Mistress’s chambers were always built under farmlands. Out of sight where no one would ever find them.

  The back of the van door was open and I jumped inside; a Wraith stood in front of a single cage. Zoya was already huddled in the corner. Without hesitation I jumped in and pulled Zoya into my arms. Her body was shaking. When I pulled her head around to face me, blood was trickling from a cut on her lip.

  “I hate that bitch,” I growled, but Zoya shook her head.

  “Look at me,” she whispered. “Don’t give her the satisfaction. Just”—Zoya’s eyes dropped, and I could see she was fighting back her obvious fear—“just hold me. Hold me close.”

  The back door of the van slammed closed, plunging us into darkness. I wrapped my arms tighter around Zoya and pulled her into my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and felt Zoya’s head tilt up.

  “This is not your fault,” she replied, making me feel even worse.

  “I took you. If I hadn’t done that, Mistress wouldn’t have even known you were alive. She knew you, kotyonok. I could see it in her eyes; she knew who you were as soon as she saw you.”

  Zoya laid her head in the crook between my shoulder and neck, but nothing else was said. Mistress had gotten me back in her clutches. Only this time, she not only had Inessa to make me do her will, but now she also had the female I had fallen in love with.

  Because I had. I had fallen in love with the little Georgian, when I didn’t think I’d ever even understand what this kind of love was.

  She saw beyond the tattoos and scars. She found the real me underneath. I closed my eyes as the van began to move. I closed my eyes and held on tight, knowing it would probably be the last time I ever got to hold my kotyonok like this.

  I knew when we arrived back at Mistress’s house she’d take Zoya away. I’d been here before. I knew exactly how this scene would play out.

  The back door to the van opened and a Wraith hit the side of the van with his fist. “Get out!” he ordered. He snapped the lock on the cage, and I crawled out first. I held my hand to Zoya, and she followed me out of the van toward the secluded country mansion.

  Mistress was nowhere to be seen. The Wraith walked ahead of us, and I pulled Zoya along. She clung to my side, and needing to have her close, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my side.

  The Wraith led us to the back of the house and through a small door. A narrow hallway led down to a lower floor. A long hallway followed after that, several doors leading off to different rooms. The Wraith stopped at one and ordered, “Get inside!”

  Resisting the urge to kill him where he stood, I ducked into the room first, Zoya following behind. The room was dark, with no windows. There wasn’t any furniture in the room, only a small dull light fixed to the far wall. The door to the room slammed shut, and Zoya jumped. I listened hard trying to detect sounds outside. I heard the Wraith walking away, another door slamming shut and locks bolting, trapping us down here.

  Alone.

  Exhaling, I turned and found Zoya’s face in the low light. Her brown eyes were huge as she stared up at me, and I could feel her legs shaking.

  My heart sank on my seeing her so afraid.

  “Come,” I said, and led her to the corner of the room, the corner farthest from light. I sat on the floor resting my back against the wall and pulled Zoya down to sit upon my lap.

  She followed without argument and rested her head against my shoulder. Squinting my eyes, I searched the room for any cameras or microphones. I couldn’t see any obvious signs and relaxed some against the wall.

  We stayed this way, silent and still, for a long time before Zoya asked, “Valentin?”

  “Yes?”

  “What will happen now?”

  I closed my eyes and I could feel my heart racing in my chest. Truth was, I didn’t know. But I had an idea. Mistress would punish me for my failure. The female in my arms was the easiest means she had available.

  I opened my mouth to say I didn’t know, but Zoya spoke up first. “She’ll drug you again, won’t she? She’ll drug me, too, do to me what she did to Inessa. She’ll use me to force you to kill for her, won’t she?”

  I didn’t give a response. I didn’t need to. Zoya wasn’t stupid. Her entire life had been devoted to anticipating what her enemies might do.

  She sighed and her small hands fisted in my sweatshirt. “I hate that woman,” she said. I felt her body shaking in rage. “My mama used to tell me you could see if someone had a dark soul just by looking into their eyes. I looked into hers, and I could tell that she was rotten to the core. Owned one of the darkest black souls I’ve ever come across.”

  My teeth gritted together. I was too angry to respond.

  Zoya leaned back into my chest. Minutes and minutes passed; nothing happened. I kept listening for the sound of Mistress’s heels on the hard floor outside, for the bolts of the door upstairs to unlock, but the place was deathly quiet.

  When too much time had passed, I raised my hand and stroked it through Zoya’s long black hair. Lifting the soft strands to my nose, I breathed deep. I closed my eyes and committed her scent to memory.

  Zoya shifted in my lap, and she lifted her head. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice quiet and timid.

  Taking advantage of studying her beautiful face, I ran the pads of my fingers down her soft cheek, committing how she felt to memory. “I am remembering you. I am remembering how you feel, how you smell, how you loo
k, so when I don’t have you anymore I can still remember it all. So I don’t confuse it with a dream.”

  Zoya stared at me, then stared at me some more, until I saw her eyes glistening with tears. “Shh,” I rasped. But I was too late; big tears began rolling down her cheeks.

  Using my thumbs, I wiped them away. Zoya grabbed my wrist, pushing my hand to cup her cheek, and she said, “I’ve just found you, and now she will take you away from me, won’t she?”

  “Zoya—” I tried to soothe her, but she cut me off.

  “Won’t she?” she pushed harder.

  Sagging in defeat, I answered honestly, “Yes. She takes everything from me. It’s all she’s ever done. She lives to see me suffer.” Zoya’s head dropped and she stared at her lap.

  I watched her, knowing I couldn’t offer any words of comfort. But then Zoya lifted her head and suddenly moved her legs to straddle my thighs.

  I drew in a breath. “Kotyonok? What are you doing?”

  Lifting her hand, she ran it over my head, my cheeks, and my neck, following the action with her gaze. “If this is all we have, if all we have is right now, then I want to explore you one final time. I want my memories of you to be as strong as the ones you will have of me.”

  My heart kicked into a fast sprint at the flush building up Zoya’s neck. Unable to resist, I cupped the back of her neck and brought her to my lips.

  Zoya moaned into my mouth, quiet and reserved, but it didn’t make the kiss any less intense. I told her how I felt in this kiss. I poured myself into this kiss, all of me, everything she had made me feel.

  My tongue pushed through her lips to meet Zoya’s, and as I drank in her sweet taste Zoya’s hips rolled, her hot pussy pressing along my hardening dick.

  Gasping at the feel, I broke away.

  I tried to breathe, to calm myself down. But Zoya leaned forward and began kissing every inch of my face, my heart swelling when she began tracing the length of my longest scar with her soft mouth. She ran her lips down from my temple to my neck, only going off the scar’s path to kiss along the red band of leftover scarred tissue from my collar. I groaned and ran my hands over her thighs, trying to stop myself from doing what I was picturing in my mind. But then Zoya’s small hands landed on the zipper of my sweatshirt and she pulled it down.

  Once my sweatshirt was open, she shifted down my legs and commenced kissing my scar from the bottom of my neck to my pecs. When she reached the end of the scar, she lifted her face, her cheeks red and her skin flushed with need.

  “Zoya,” I whispered; then she rose from my lap and got to her feet. Never breaking my gaze, she kicked off her boots and snapped open the button of her black pants.

  Reaching down into my sweatpants, I grabbed my hard cock and began stroking along the length. And I watched; I watched Zoya as she slowly pulled her pants down and kicked them to the floor. She wore no panties, and as she stepped closer her pussy came into view.

  Pre-come leaked from the tip of my cock at the sight. Bending down, Zoya pushed the material of the sweatshirt from my shoulders. Releasing my cock, I shrugged it to the floor just as Zoya unbuttoned her blouse, her tits bared as the material parted.

  She stood before me, unmoving, until I held out my hand. Zoya walked forward, and as she stood over my legs I ran my hands down over her chest, my fingers running over her hard nipples and down to just above her pussy.

  Zoya’s breathing was labored at my touch. She lowered down until she was on her knees and, pushing her hand into my pants, pulled out my cock, pushing the material farther down my legs. My head tipped back at the feel of her soft small hands stroking up and down my dick, her thumb rubbing over the head, spreading the wetness.

  Zoya stood up and, as she pressed a kiss to my lips, she guided my cock toward her, the both of us groaning low as she pushed herself down. Her tight cunt fisted my cock, and needing to touch her, I slid my hands round to grip her ass. Zoya moaned again when I palmed her flesh, and she dropped down until I was completely inside her.

  We both stilled, and Zoya’s hands threaded around my neck, her tits that were peeking out of her shirt close enough to scrape against my hard chest.

  Using my hands as a guide on her ass, I lifted her up, her tight pussy strangling my dick as I pulled it out, leaving only the tip inside. Then I guided her back down, the feel of her tight wet heat driving me insane.

  Zoya’s head rolled back as she sat right down; then it fell forward as I lifted her again. Her forehead pressed to mine, and her hips began to move, slowly rocking back and forth.

  “Valentin,” she called as her arms tightened around my neck. “My Valentin,” she added with a strained sad whisper.

  My heart almost stopped in my chest as she called me hers. Unable to hold back, I released a long groan and used the grip on her ass to build the speed of my thrusts.

  Zoya whimpered as I increased my speed. I could feel her skin heating to the same scalding temperature as my own. And I could see the same pleasure on her face as the pleasure ripping through my every cell.

  Her small body pumped up and down, and with every soft thrust a flush built more and more on her face.

  My breathing lowered as my balls began to tighten. Small moans began slipping from Zoya’s mouth. Her pussy started squeezing at my dick, and taking one of my hands from her ass, I brought it round to press against her clit. Zoya fell forward, her body jumping at the feel.

  “Valentin,” she whispered, and ground herself harder against my hand. Her lean thighs tensed as she rocked even harder.

  “Kotyonok,” I groaned as pressure built in my groin. Then I pumped, I pumped into her harder and harder, until a soft cry tore from her throat. Zoya stilled, and in the dull light I saw her mouth drop slightly open. At the sight of her beautiful face, caught in pleasure, I came. My head fell against her neck as I roared out my release, possessing this little Georgian with it.

  My body jerked as my prick released the last of my seed. When I calmed, my breathing hard and labored, I felt Zoya’s breath clouding over my neck.

  Without saying a thing, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close. Zoya’s arms caged my head, and that’s how we sat. We sat like this for a long time, just holding each other.

  It was our good-bye.

  My blood boiled when I tried to think of something I could do, but if I fought back I sentenced Zoya to death, and Inessa to a life of cruelty at the hands of the Master. But if I did nothing Mistress would drug Zoya and make my life twice as bad, forcing me to watch Zoya and my sister being raped by her sick guards.

  “My mama used to say something to me all of the time, Valentin,” Zoya spoke. I realized I’d been squeezing her to my body too tightly. Her small hands ran over my scarred shaven head, followed by a kiss. “She would say, Change the things you can control, and let go of the things you cannot.” On my hearing her words my eyes pricked and a burning feeling engulfed my throat.

  “Zoya…,” I said her name, but I had nothing else to offer.

  Zoya pulled back and covered my cheeks with her warm hands. As I met her big brown eyes, she said, “This is a hopeless situation. I know that.” She sighed, and I could see her trying to be strong—her quivering lip betrayed her fear. “I have come to learn that I was born into a life of violence and crime. It seems it is a destiny from which neither of us can escape. Whatever happens next will happen. That is our life.”

  I shook my head and squeezed her hard. My cheek rested against her chest, and I said, “I hated Georgians, hated Georgian females in particular. But I can’t hate you, Zoya. You’re the only good I’ve ever known. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.” I sighed, and rearing back, I pressed a kiss over the place of her heart and said, “My little Georgian.”

  Zoya’s breathing hitched in her chest, and she whispered, “Valentin.”

  She never got to say anything else. I never got to kiss her soft lips again, because as I held her close the door to the room opened and a Wraith blocked t
he entrance. I flipped Zoya from his view, showing the Wraith my back. A cold laugh came from his throat, and he ordered, “Get up! Mistress is ready for you.”

  I glanced down to Zoya, whom I had pushed against the corner of the wall, and with sad eyes she nodded her head. “Do not fight. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to cool my raging blood. When I opened them, I took a deep breath. Lifting Zoya in my arms, I picked the sweatshirt off the floor and pushed it over her naked body. “Put it on,” I whispered. Zoya took the sweatshirt in her hands and quickly dressed. I zipped up the zipper and tucked my cock back in my pants.

  Straightening, I turned to the Wraith guard, and he flicked his head for me to follow. Placing Zoya on the floor, I reached for her hand and wrapped her fingers in mine. I had stepped forward to move when the sight of her hand in mine pulled me to a stop. Zoya’s free hand landed on my arm.

  “Valentin?” she asked, her black eyebrows pulled down in question.

  Lifting our joined hands, I brought the back of her hand to my lips and kissed the silky skin.

  “Baby?” Zoya asked again, and my heart melted at that term of endearment coming from her lips.

  I shook my head and fought back the image in my head.

  “What?” Zoya pushed again.

  “This,” I said, and held up our joined hands. “We will never do this. We will never walk in the open air. Free. With our hands like this.”

  Zoya’s face shone with sadness and her gaze dropped to our joined hands. “I used to watch people on the streets from my window and dream of the day I would do this with the man who would steal my heart.” Zoya’s lip hooked into a loving smile, and she asked, “You have dreamed of that, too?”

  Staring at Zoya, memorizing every part of her face, I said, “Not until you.”

  Zoya had moved to kiss me on my lips when the Wraith guard reappeared in the doorway, crackling Taser in hand. “Move!”